


Blood on the Leaves

by discountghost



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pack Dynamics, They're coming back from a battle, This hurt me but was interesting to explore lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22567942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: Fate moves and the world follows.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 104





	Blood on the Leaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enokiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enokiss/gifts).

> This is a little different from what I usually write, but I'm glad to have given it a try. It also turned out a little differently from what I had expected.

Seonghwa was a heavy weight on his back.

Made heavier by his stillness. They’d paused, ducked between trees to rest. But Seonghwa had not stirred when he’d been jostled the first time and Hongjoong felt panic race through him. He shrugged the older man higher up on his back, a slight strain to his hip. But that was nothing compared to the wetness sticking his clothes to Seonghwa’s. He glanced back at the others, and found that they were no better. San’s eyes fluttered, opened and closed. When he had them open long enough, Hongjoong could see only the whites of his eyes. Yeosang hobbled beside Mingi, brows knit. They looked like a three-legged beast. Hongjoong shuddered, turned back to their route of retreat.

“Hyung!” It was a hushed whisper, almost missed. His neck ached with how quickly he’d turned. “San.”

His blood chilled as his gaze slid down from Jongho’s face to San convulsing in his arms. The youngest had an almost iron grip on the man in his hands, held his head still and pressed against his chest.

“We have to keep moving.” The words were bitter on his tongue, but Jongho nodded and they continued on.

He could still hear the thrum of San’s heartbeat, resonated in time with it. They were almost there, almost safe — they couldn’t afford to stop. They would have much worse to worry about if they did.

The plan had been flawless. At least, Hongjoong had thought it had been. It shouldn’t have gone wrong, even if they had been going up against a fairly matched pack. Yunho had scoped them out before; they had been weaker, not a threat. Maybe he had been wrong. They’d have to talk about it later, when everyone was  _ safe. _ The word thumped in his mind the way his heart did. 

He felt the first pangs of relief as they reached the familiar clearing. The brush that reeked of home and family. The first step into their boundary was only the beginning of the struggle, though. Hongjoong, Jongho, and Yunho made quick work of taking the more seriously injured indoors.

And then started the long night.

Now, Hongjoong lay nuzzled close to San. The younger hadn’t awoken, thankfully, for the stitching of his wounds or the discovery that he was in heat. They’d always suspected that he would add to the alpha count and that Hongjoong would have to leave another mark of dominance. That, and that San would never shut up about it. But they’d parted his thighs to clean him up, only to find them wet with slick. The metallic din of blood in the air had obscured the brewing scent of peaches topped with brown sugar.

He didn’t know what triggered it, but he had a guess. Fear was a powerful enough motivator to force a presentation. His stomach churned thinking about it, and the way the scents had mixed. Wooyoung had looked particularly stricken, and now he hoovered uneasily by the doorway. Patched up with the minor injuries that he had — Hongjoong thanks whatever deity had left him mostly unharmed — he teetered on the edge of the wanting to say something and fearing what would happen if he did.

San stirred beside Hongjoong, curled into his side. Hongjoong winced in time with the omega. The healing was going well, but not quickly enough that there wouldn’t be lasting effects. That was kind of what happened when someone tried to rip you in half. He wasn’t sure if they had managed to put his insides back in the right way; there had been a lot of panic going on.

A knock brought him back to the present, away from the visions of them trying to hold San together long enough for the skin to begin mending. Yeosang poked his head in and the leader’s mouth worked around something about the other resting. The tap of a crutch against the floor stoped him.

“Seonghwa woke up about an hour ago.” His tone was casual, as if this was an everyday occurrence. Like he wasn’t down a leg. “He said he’s fine now, but we cleaned the bandage on his eyes...he won’t be seeing for a while.” He hobbled over to one corner, pushed a chair around with some effort. Wooyoung whimpered, finally moved to lay beside San and bracket him in warmth. “My leg’s done for, but I think we already knew that.”

“I’m so—”

“Stop apologizing.” The expression on Yeosang’s face shifted. “We don’t get anything from you apologizing to us.”

“I know, but if I hadn’t—”

“We went along with it; we knew the risks.”

Another whimper from Wooyoung. Hongjoong glanced his way, found him with his face borrowed in a squirming San’s neck. Usually, he would coo at the two of them. Thick as thieves, they were. But the impending sense of doom had not left Hongjoong since the other had been brought in.

“I know. It won’t stop me from blaming myself.” He looked back, finally, to Yeosang.

Nothing they said could change the fact that he’d watched his plan go so wrong. The perfected planning — they’d taken  _ months _ to put it all together. And then it fell apart because he couldn’t keep his shit together. He’d been so absolutely sure of himself. Hongjoong had thought he’d walk into it with no regrets. And yet — he’d be reminded of it by the scars they all bore. Seonghwa’s eyes, Yeosang’s leg. San wasn’t out of the woods yet, either.

A whine, not Wooyoung this time, disturbed the stillness. San rolled further onto his side, despite the pain it might have caused him, to curl further into Hongjoong’s side. The scent of peaches hit his nose strong. San’s fingers dug into his arm. His nose bumped against Hongjoong shoulder, not quite strong enough to pull himself up high enough to reach his neck to breathe in deep the scent of his alpha. San’s unmarked neck was tantalizing. The urge to line his teeth up with the constellation of freckles along the other’s neck was almost unbearable.

Almost.

Despite how weak he must have been, Hongjoong found it difficult to break free from San’s hold. The bucket and cloth they kept to mop the sweat away was only a step’s distance from them, but parting from San made it feel further. The younger whined, pulled his legs up to his chest. 

“I’ll do it.” Yeosang was shaky on his feet. “I came to see him anyways. You go check on Seonghwa.”

Hongjoong paused, then nodded as he headed for the door. 

Normally, Hongjoong would need to have wandered into some alternate universe for it to be so quiet. They were separated into three cabins that they’d found and renovated. One was mostly just storage, and the other for medical matters — a sterile environment they hadn’t thought that they would need to use too often — but they’d divided up into all three this time around. So that should their mistakes follow them, they would at least be able to get a few of the pack out. Hongjoong shuddered at the thought.

But there was always some sort of activity — silence greeted him. The steps creaked into the quiet as he went up them. The scent of pine and mint wafted into his nose as he entered the cabin. It laid beneath heavy overtones of blood, thick and cloying. He made sure the scent was trapped in the cabin, shut the door behind him hard. Blood on the breeze was the last thing that he needed.

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa’s voice was strong; a good sign.

“I’m coming in.” He pushed open the door, peered inside. Seonghwa laid on the bed, blanketed and surrounded by a copious amount of pillows. He might have laughed.

Seonghwa noticed. “Finally, you seem to be relaxing.”

“Kind of hard to, given what just happened.” Hongjoong’s smile was pained at best. This wasn’t something that he thought he could move on from. Seonghwa opened his arms, though he stared ahead of himself. That — that hurt. He tried not to look at the bandages covering the other’s eyes as he climbed into the nest. “How’s your head?”

The older shrugged. “It could be better.”

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault —”

“It’s no one’s fault.” Seonghwa pressed a finger to his lips with surprising accuracy. “This was just how fate deemed it to be.” Another shrug. “I’m just glad that it wasn’t more serious.”

“They took Yeosang’s  _ leg. _ ”

“But he has his life. The fact that any of us are not dead is because of you, Hongjoong. You have to remember that.”

Lips pursed, Hongjoong laid back. He couldn’t refute that. They  _ were _ all still alive. They might be battered, but  _ alive. _ They were resilient. They bounced back before; they could do it again. He hoped. He closed his eyes, let himself sink into pillows. A hand carded through his hair, nails scratched lightly at his scalp. He could, for a moment, allow himself to forget the events that had transpired. Shrouded in a layer of exhaustion, he fell into sleep easily.

“We’ll be fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/discountghosts) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/remeremerem)


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